[The Moonlight Bed by Jacek Yerka, 2002]
Body At Rest
Waving a white flag, I yield
in defeat to protracted wake.
Sinking to bed, I am lost
in pillow smell, surrendering
to billows of white truce.
My left side leans a heaviness. Cool bed hollows go warm.
Intimately they conform to my anatomy. My right arm,
resting on my drawn-up knees, rounds at the girdle of my shoulder.
Indecision clouds the piled-upon left arm.
The clock clicks green refusing to acknowledge my defection,
reminding me I cannot dismiss chunks of minutes,
slabs of hours in this submitting.
Yet my face nestles in
to pliable pillow,
breath slows, bony
cross, knees hook
into each other, feet
curves that curve
I have given up.